A Warrior's Return: The Royal Houses of Sea and Snow

by Jude Marquez

  Eamon hummed. He knew the land well, knew it better than anyone in the hall. The Storm Isles were not very far off from the mainland. It wasn't unheard of for a person to swim the warm channel in the forgiving months. But these months that they were planning on invading wouldn't necessarily be forgiving and asking women and children, the elderly, to swim that channel was not an option.

  "Do we have a map?" Eamon asked and turned in his seat to Yvonne who was seated close by.

  "I'll send for one," she said and nodded to a young man who left the room.

  "If the navy can set the soldiers off the boat and then sail around towards the southern part of the island, it is but a short distance from the Isles to the mainland. Our mainland people will no doubt take them in. They are among the hardest hit of the people; the king of the Vresal starves them despite their resources," Eamon said and nodded at the young man who approached him with the man. He took it and spread it out between Eamon and Alik. "What we should also be concerned about is the resources to feed those people. The Vresal royalty hoard the food and the livestock so it is a daunting task to feed so many with so little."

  Alik sat back and nodded. He looked thoughtful and his eyes drifted across the court. Eamon knew that he was studying the half finished plates of food in front of those in court, the expensive wine in their hands, their own platters, loaded with more meat and cheese and bread than a person should be expected to eat in a single sitting.

  "It isn't their fault. They know nothing else," Eamon said quietly. "It is useless hating them for their ignorance."

  Alik grimaced and looked down. "I suppose you're right," he said with a sigh. He spread his hand wide over the map and nodded. "I will consider this issue. But I think you are right, using the navy to transport the civilians."

  "I'm glad to hear it," Eamon said.

  The debate continued on for the rest of the night and Eamon took solace in the fact that he had indeed found the marriage that he had been looking for.

  Chapter 4

  Lady Sexton's men slowly integrated into Eamon's men, settling in with them and creating the kind of working relationship that men going off to war often make. Within a week, they were working together better than Eamon could have hoped though Sir Athalos and Reeve seemed to have their own reservations.

  "Sir Clifton, sire-" Reeve said with a huff and sat down next to Eamon as he laced up his gear. It would be the first time he would spar with the men.

  "Is there an actual complaint or do you simply want to whine? If you are looking to whine, Avelina is only a few steps away," Eamon said and nodded at the two of them.

  Reeve opened his mouth and Eamon waited as he laced up his arm guards. Finally, with nothing left to say, Reeve stood and went to Avelina.

  Eamon shook his head. When he stood, Sir Athalos joined him and he studied the sparring ring and the men who were already jostling for a place closest for the best view.

  "How many do you think?" Eamon asked, referring to the number of men who would enter the ring against him.

  "I defer to your good judgement," Sir Athalos said.

  "And I am asking for yours," Eamon said.

  "No more than five," Sir Athalos said after a moment.

  "So it is," Eamon said and rolled his shoulders, settling the armor better so it rested more comfortably. It took some doing on his part, to get his people on his side for him to return to sparring, but it was his great love, second only to Alik, and he would not be put away in the castle.

  "Here," Avelina said from behind him and fixed a strap that had become twisted. Her face was solemn and she seemed to be thinking.

  "What is it?" Eamon asked.

  "Issat worries," Avelina murmured.

  "About what?" Eamon asked.

  "She explained to me that it is the way of the Vresal to send in spies but they have been pulled back," Avelina murmured and adjusted the armor once more and it fit exactly as it was supposed to.

  "What do you suppose that means?" Sir Athalos asked softly. He turned his back to the crowd of men and fixed a worried look on the ground.

  "If they don't need scouts or spies, then the question is, why not?" Avelina said and stepped in front of Eamon so that her back was to the men as well.

  "They wouldn't need one if they had a high ranking official feeding them information," Sir Athalos said. His blue eyes narrowed and he turned to the army before him, more importantly, the officers surrounding Sir Clifton.

  Neither Avelina or Athalos had to suggest what they were thinking.

  "I will speak to the King tonight," Eamon said.

  "And do what?" Avelina asked.

  Eamon didn't have an answer for her but she nodded anyway.

  "You do that," she muttered and turned away.

  "WE WILL NEED TO SET up a meeting, soon, to decide the official course of strategy," Milet said as Alik studied the maps in front of him.

  "Hm," Alik said and moved a piece towards the isles where he knew Lissandra was staying. Issat moved it away and glared at him. Lissandra was a secret that was to be kept at all costs but sometimes, when Alik was too deep in thought and counting all their allies, he was unaware of mentioning her or alluding to her existence at all.

  "Which means you will need a war council," Milet added slowly, as though Alik were being a bit slow.

  "Of course," Alik nodded vaguely and glared at their southern flank. Wide open, like the arms of lover. It would be especially easy to overtake them there but even with all their promised men and boats, it seemed like they were already spread too thin.

  He considered sending a message to Evander, wondered if he could get his own men there in time. He would have to speak to Eamon, to see what thought of asking this great favor of their old friends.

  "Which means you will have to officially announce one," Milet said.

  Alik sighed and closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed slowly. "Eamon is right, you know. If we could get past the tradition of announcing every single thing, every time it happens, we might be able to move faster. I haven't the time or the patience to coddle and announce and comfort every single noble with a complaint-"

  "Let Margrave and Avelina do it," Issat said. She was sitting on his throne, one leg casually thrown over the arm of the chair, toying with the small piece he had used to represent Lissandra and her forces. "Margrave merely lurks and Avelina is bored of the men and their fighting styles. Let them announce it, let them take over the nobles, and free yourself of them."

  "I notice that you did not volunteer yourself," Margrave muttered from near a pillar.

  Issat winked at him.

  "As she says," Alik said to Milet.

  "You must still pick your council," Milet reminded him.

  "Avelina, Margrave, Eamon, yourself, Yvonne, Lord Neale, and Margrave," Alik rattled off.

  Milet blinked but nodded. He turned to Margrave who was already straightening up from the pillar. "I'll go to the ring, retrieve Her Grace, and we will announce it," he said.

  Alik nodded and turned back to his maps when the doors flew open and a young man stepped into the room, panting. Margrave stopped in his tracks and looked first to Alik and then to Issat who was standing as well.

  "Your Highness," he gasped and fell to one knee. In his hand, he held a scroll and when he looked at Milet, already striding towards the young man. He snatched the scroll and broke the seal. He read through it quickly and as he went completely still, he looked up to Alik.

  "What?" Alik demanded but Milet only handed the scroll to him. There was silence throughout the room as he read it and he could feel the eyes of all those around him as he read it.

  Alik looked down and nodded.

  "Ready my horse. We will all go to the ring," Alik muttered and as he passed Margrave he handed him the scroll.

  "Stay here," he ordered Margrave and left the room without another word.

  UNSETTLED WITH THEIR previous conversation, Eamon turned towards Sir Clifton who was waitin
g a bit too eagerly.

  "Give me five of your best," Eamon told him.

  "Five," Sir Clifton repeated slowly.

  "That's what I said-" Eamon said and then everyone around him fell to a knee and he stopped himself from sighing. When he turned, Alik was there, on his favorite horse and looking like the haughty noble that he was born to be.

  "Your Highness, what a pleasant surprise," Eamon said. He raised his eyebrows.

  Behind him was a group of Heaven, looking as though they had been rushed to the ring with little warning.

  "My King," Alik said and swung off his horse. Heaven did the same, moving like a single unit. Milet must have been drilling them relentlessly.

  "Am I needed at the castle?" Eamon asked and he could feel the disappointment seeping into him. Although he would go, he was very much looking forward to the sparring round.

  Alik glanced around them and shook his head. "I merely came to see how you spend your days. Please, proceed, and we can speak on our way back to the castle for lunch."

  Eamon didn't like how Alik gave in so easily because there was clearly something on his mind. He studied him and there was something in his demeanor that made Eamon hesitate and reach for the buckles and clasps of his sparring gear.

  "No, please. It can wait," Alik said and took a step back.

  "As you wish," Eamon muttered and turned back to Sir Clifton and the others, who were now rising to their feet. "Five, Sir Clifton."

  Sir Clifton nodded and turned back to his men. He picked out the few he wanted and, alongside himself, stepped into the ring.

  ALIK WATCHED FROM THE sidelines and barely felt any of the anxiety that he used to feel watching Eamon fight. Now it was simply a way to pass the time; there wasn't any of the breathlessness that almost strangled him when he watched Eamon fight Malcolm so long ago. He knew what his husband was capable of and the five men in front of him did not offer a challenge.

  "You seem ill at ease," Avelina said as she approached him. Her eyes barely flickered over to the fight in front of them.

  "There has been news," Alik said. "Will you be able to take more responsibilities?"

  "Of course," Avelina said and straightened up.

  Alik gave her a strained smile and then a thought struck him. "Have you given any thought to marriage?"

  Avelina laughed. "No, when would I?" Then she grew somber. "Does someone approach?"

  "No, that's not it at all," Alik reassured her. He hesitated before he sighed and said, "No, no one approaches. I seek only to make sure that you are as happy and as safe as possible. And if you married, to someone of your choosing, then perhaps that would keep you out of the Vresal reach. They could not use you as a means to attain the throne."

  Avelina knew this but hearing her future spoken about so plainly and in such stark terms made her nod. "I understand."

  "Is there anyone... Is there someone that perhaps I should further investigate? Perhaps send Margrave to speak to?" Alik asked. He was trying to divert her attention from whatever matter had brought him here and it was unfortunately working.

  "I haven't even had the time to consider such matters," Avelina said.

  "While there is no rush," Alik began and they both fell back when a man was thrown in their direction and another swiftly followed him, "It should perhaps be something you think upon."

  "I will, Your Highness," she said softly.

  The look on her face was one of elegant politeness, not so much different from her normal one. But there was a stiffness there that belied her feelings on the matter.

  Alik took her hand in his and patted. "Think on it. I do not demand a choice, but if someone presents themselves, or perhaps catches your eye, let me know. That is all I ask. You will have the choice your brother and I were not given."

  As though he heard them, Eamon glanced at the two of them, victorious and sweating, a small cut on his temple that bled freely and yet still he remained wildly beautiful.

  Alik sighed.

  "The lack of choice seems to have been beneficial to you both," Avelina said, softly amused.

  "Perhaps we are of the lucky few." Alik mused.

  "I believe you are right," Avelina said as Eamon stepped over the soldiers and met the two of them. He took his sister's hands from Alik and kissed her knuckles with his trademark roughness.

  "If I might be so bold as to have my husband, sweet sister," Eamon said and grinned cockily at Alik.

  "As though any but he could catch your eye," Avelina said.

  Eamon laughed and Alik tugged him away from the others and towards their waiting horses.

  "We will ride back alone," he informed his guard.

  "But, Your Highness, we have strict, standing orders to be within eyesight of you at all times," one young woman protested.

  Alik glanced back at the sparring ring where some men were picking themselves up from the ground and others lay motionless. He looked to Eamon who looked like he had been on a swift hike, nothing more.

  "I believe my husband can take care of the responsibility," Alik said dryly and then they were off.

  It was a moment before they were far enough away from others that Alik trusted himself to speak. As he gathered himself, Eamon chose to break the silence first.

  "Issat has informed Avelina that the Vresal spies and scouts have been pulled out of Grayhaven lands. There are none to be found, anywhere."

  Alik nodded. It made sense, with the news that he had just received.

  "You don't seem surprised," Eamon noted. "What is it?"

  "I have just received word from the Vresal kingdom themselves," Alik began slowly.

  Eamon slowed Sweet and then stopped him altogether. Alik did the same on his own horse. "What is it?" He repeated.

  "The king of Vresal has died, quite unexpectedly. Margrave will have further news, I'm sure of it, but the decree had several demands listed," Alik said.

  "Demands," Eamon said flatly.

  "Yes," Alik said quietly.

  "What did they state?"

  "They wish for no wars, no invasions, to begin until after the ceremony for their great king has been completed," Alik began and Eamon snorted. Sensing his master's unease, Sweet danced about until Eamon made him still once more. "The prince, at least I assume that is who he is, wishes to meet and negotiate. He has set a time, date, and place."

  "When did you receive this?" Eamon asked.

  "I came at once with the news," Alik said.

  "It would have been appropriate to interrupt training with this," Eamon said.

  "I know. But I wanted you to have that once without this over your head," Alik explained.

  Eamon nodded and his shoulders relaxed. "What say you?" He asked.

  "I will not agree to his meeting place. He is insane or stupid to think that I would ever do so," Alik said.

  "Where did he suggest?" Eamon asked.

  "The Vresal homeland," Alik said.

  Eamon snorted.

  "I will suggest something else on a different day. I must, however, assemble the war council. Margrave and Avelina will have a great deal more responsibilities and I think that for the time being, you should be with me during meetings," Alik said. "If you are amicable."

  "Reeve and Sir Athalos have their hands full with the men. They are capable of taking charge fully now, I believe," Eamon said. "Let us go, if that is the case."

  Chapter 5

  It was a heated few days, with the exchange of letters between the Prince of Vresal and the Kings of Grayhaven and Ataton.

  "He must realize that there is not a single time when we will enter his land alone and unguarded," Alik said and threw down the latest scroll. Prince Raulyn, as they came to know him as, suggested Stormholme Castle as their next spot of negotiations and as much as the land called to both Eamon and Avelina, they had seen the danger there as well. The prince demanded that they leave guards and weapons at home and sail only with a skeleton crew.

  "He is an arrogant fool," Eamon added.
r />   "He is not stupid though. He pushes these negotiations through for as long as he can in hopes of forestalling your invasion," Margrave said. "What word I have gotten about him and his place in his own court is not one so stable as our own. The people on Storm Isles are but a single spark of rebellion away from all out civil war and his own court makes Grayhaven appear like a delightful fairy tale. The attempts on his life are numerous and he has no one but a select few that he can call his own. Even the soldiers he turned from Stormholme he does not trust."

  "What of his father?" Avelina asked as she scribbled out a coded letter to Lissandra, updating her on all the things happening.

  "It's unusual to say the least. A large, healthy man but to his last month on this land. Then he began to waste away quite suddenly and one night he went to sleep and never woke. There is no sign of poison but-" Margrave shrugged and his one useful eye went distant. "We all know how suddenly healthy men can take ill and die."

  "So you suspect the prince?" Alik asked.

  Margrave gave him a strained smile. "Dear cousin, I suspect everyone."

  "What will you suggest?" Issat asked when an uncomfortable silence settled over everyone in the war room.

  "The old negotiations. Four ships, one large floating platform lashed to all four. We will meet on the platform and speak there," Alik said.

  "That is indeed old," Margrave said and he still seemed to be distantly aware of how much these negotiations could cost them. "They ended those when our great grandfather was killed on one."

  "I am not our great grandfather and he did not have Eamon," Alik said.

  "True enough," Margrave said. He stood abruptly and went to the door. At the last moment he turned back to the council and bowed. "If you have no immediate need for me, I have something to attend to."

  "Care to share with the rest of us what that might be?" Eamon asked.

  Instead of answering, Margrave gave them all the same smile and left.

  With his exit, the others started to take their leave as well, leaving until only Milet and Heaven guarding the doors and Eamon and Alik were alone.

  "I wish you would let me go alone," Eamon said softly to Alik's back.